


hands, head, heart

by a_ndrewminyar_d



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Grounding techniques, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, anxious!harry, bed (sofa) sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 17:55:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15935414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_ndrewminyar_d/pseuds/a_ndrewminyar_d
Summary: A long-ish oneshot based on a headcanon I posted to tumblr a while back about Harry learning to plait people's hair as a grounding technique. Read the original post at: https://a-ndrewminyar-d.tumblr.com/post/177605235384/this-will-not-leave-my-head-so-i-had-to-write-it .





	hands, head, heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic so i'm sorry if it's not great, plus, if anyone wants to use my hc to write their own fic please go ahead (also tag me so i can read it), thank you for reading, ily <3  
> p.s i'm really bad at dialogue bc i prefer descriptive writing so i'm sorry if the dialogue seems quite infrequent/stilted

When Harry came back to Hogwarts for his eighth year, he was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. However this exhaustion did little to calm the anxiety that seemed to thrum constantly through his bones. Any loud noise was enough to send his brain into spiral, memories of the war flashing through his mind, bright green and red. His hands would almost constantly tremor, causing him to spill ink all over his parchment on more than one occasion. And when his mind wasn’t occupied with reliving the worst year of his life, his thoughts wandered to a certain blond who had returned to Hogwarts quiet and subdued, eyes haunted and figure frail enough to look as though his bones would shatter at the slightest touch.  
Hermione and Ron had tried their best to help, not pushing Harry too far on subjects that were still too fresh in his memory and giving him space when he needed it, making sure they were there when he did want to talk or cry or just to sit. However nothing seemed to be working, without a way to cope, Harry found himself falling into old habits, cleaning and re-cleaning his corner of the dorm with meticulous care just to give his fidgeting hands something to do. His dorm mates noticed of course but didn’t say anything in the hope that Harry would get better soon. He just needed time, or so they thought. Meanwhile, Harry’s mental state seemed to be worsening every day and even though Ron and Hermione would always be his best friends, with their newfound relationship, they relied on each other more than they did Harry and he couldn’t help but feel that the distance between him and the couple was growing larger and larger the more time that passed.  
Harry barely slept or ate and when he wasn’t in class, he busied himself with homework or cleaning or scanning the marauder’s map for a familiar name much like he had obsessively done in his sixth year. When he did manage to sleep, nightmares crowded his unconscious mind until he woke, screaming and tangled in sweat soaked bed sheets. After the first few nights of this, Harry had learned to set up silencing charms around his bed every evening for fear of waking his dorm mates. However, he knew many of his fellow eighth years suffered with the same thing, including one Draco Malfoy whom Harry had witnessed quietly leaving the dorm room late at night on multiple occasions.  
~~~  
Harry awoke one morning about a month into his eighth year after another fitful night’s sleep, his throat sore and aching and his skin salty. He dressed quickly in his newest Weasley jumper and his favourite pair of muggle joggers and, as he did every time he woke early from a nightmare, he slipped out of the dorm and wandered the corridors until the great hall opened for breakfast at seven. Harry sat down in his usual spot at the Gryffindor table and passed the time trying not to think about the subjects of his nightmares, choosing instead to pick at the splintering wood of the old bench he sat on. As it was a Saturday, it was a while before any other students entered the hall but shortly after half seven a stream of students started to trickle through the doors, some stopping to glance at Harry before taking their usual seats at their respective tables.  
It was around eight when Harry’s friends started to arrive. Neville came first, greeting Harry with a good morning and engaging him in friendly small talk about a plant that Harry had never heard of. Ginny was next, butting her shoulder against Harry’s and giving him a soft smile before beginning a conversation with Neville. After Ginny, the eighth years arrived en masse with Hermione and Ron taking their seats across from Harry as everyone else got settled further down the table and across the hall. Hermione wordlessly buttered two pieces of toast for herself and then proceeded to do the same for Harry and Ron. Harry would make an effort to eat at least half a piece of toast for her, she did enough for them.  
The chatter of the great hall had Harry drumming his fingers on the table and tapping his foot anxiously until Hermione covered his hand with hers absentmindedly whilst she leaned over the table to get the juice from in front of Ginny.  
“So,” Ron exclaimed, aiming to get the attention of the large group of Gryffindors seated in the vicinity, “Plans for today anyone?”  
“I’m going down to the pitch after breakfast for a fly if anyone wants to join me?” Ginny addressed the whole table when she spoke but her eyes landed on Harry sympathetically, his attention was directed to the door, waiting for a familiar blond head.  
“Sounds great, what about you mate? Fancy a fly today?”  
Ron spoke directly to Harry, snapping him out of his daze, and spoke quietly, carefully. Harry hated it. Hated how he was seen as fragile by those who should know better after seeing what Harry had been through. In other ways, Harry was grateful for the exact same reasons because maybe he was fragile after the war, maybe he had been broken down and rebuilt so much that one tap could be enough to bring him down for good.  
“No thanks mate,” he replied, “Still got some potions work I need to catch up on today, maybe next time?”  
Ron nodded his head gently and turned to talk to Ginny about the upcoming Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match. Harry knew ‘next time’ would be the same.  
Halfway through breakfast Luna joined their group, squeezing in next to Ginny and lightly kissing her cheek, making her blush up to her ears. Ginny and Luna had become a thing over the summer after Harry and Ginny had mutually agreed to end their relationship (if it could even be called that). It suited them both. They both wanted different things after the war and Harry knew that she had found comfort and solace in Luna’s calming presence. Harry still loved her but he recognised that love as something more familial and protective than romantic and now their friendship was stronger than ever. In fact, it was Ginny coming out as bisexual with Luna as her new girlfriend that had given him the courage to come out himself, birthing ‘the bi bros’, as Ginny had affectionately nicknamed them.  
Ginny propped her elbow on the table and leant forward so her chin was cupped in her palm as Luna began to card her fingers through the bright strands. Harry watched, mesmerised, as Luna effortlessly wove an intricate plait into Ginny’s hair, casting what appeared to be some sort of holding charm when she was done to keep the hair in place.  
“How did you do that?” Harry asked, leaning over to get a closer look at Ginny’s head.  
“It’s simple really, Harry,” Luna smiled gently, voice soft and sweet, “Would you like me to teach you?”  
“Erm…You don’t have to, I mean, you must have a lot of work your own to-“  
“Oh Harry,” she replied, “Don’t you worry about that! I’ll meet you in the eighth year common room when our friends leave for the pitch. It’ll be wonderful to spend some time with you.”  
She smiled at Harry, a true, warm smile that held none of the pity Ron’s did and none of the concern Hermione’s was famous for. Harry smiled back.  
Harry left the great hall at around eight thirty, excusing himself to go and start his potions work. He walked through the corridors head down, avoiding the awestruck stares of students who had yet to get over the wonder of ‘The Boy Who Lived’. Harry was almost at the common room when he collided with the tall figure of Draco Malfoy, both boys paying too much attention to the floor than what was in front of them as it was. Draco (Harry had made a resolute decision that in order for them to get over their past, Harry should endeavour to use Draco’s first name) was at least half a foot taller than Harry now and just as thin, so thin in fact that the green, woollen jumper he wore seemed to drown his form. His hair was longer now, hanging in natural waves just past his ears and the front was flipped over to the left of his face as if he had just run his hand through it. How Draco still managed to look elegant and poised in spite of just colliding with himself, Harry would never know.  
“Potter?”  
Draco’s eyes held the same exhaustion and anxiety Harry himself felt, flitting left to right before settling on the ground.  
“Sorry.” Draco hurriedly muttered as he rushed past Harry.  
“S’okay.” Harry said, more to himself than anyone else as Draco was already halfway down the corridor.  
Harry shook himself and continued his walk to the common room, thinking about just how much the war had changed everyone, no matter what side.  
~~~  
Harry was beginning to get frustrated with his potions essay. His concentration was slipping more and more with every person that came and left the room, putting him on edge every time the door swung closed. After he had read the same sentence of the book in front of him several times without taking in any of the information, he finally gave up, leaning back in his chair and pressing his palms into his closed eyes, his breathing and the softly crackling fire the only sounds in the now empty common room. Harry was startled when he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Luna, dressed in what Harry recognised as one of Ginny’s quidditch sweatshirts, her long blonde hair loose and wavy.  
“Hello Harry.” Luna said as she neared the table where he had begun to pack up his work, taking care not to spill his ink pot.  
As Harry stood, Luna moved to sit on the sofa in front of the fire. He watched as she pulled her legs up to sit cross legged and stared out of the window at the overcast sky that was slowly darkening with the promise of rain.  
“What beautiful weather we’re having. Wouldn’t you agree Harry?”  
Harry didn’t know if this was what he’d call beautiful weather, with the sun nowhere in sight and the chance of rain later on, but he could appreciate the appeal of the familiar grey sky. In a way, he found it comforting, to know that no matter what was happening around him, he could always look up to the sky and find something familiar.  
“Yes,” he replied, “I think I would.”  
They both ended up sat on the sofa discussing Gryffindor’s chances at winning their upcoming game with Luna admitting that Ginny had been more worried than she’d let on for the first match almost two weeks ago.  
“She just didn’t want to let anyone down,” Luna said, “She wanted to start the year off right she said, a win for Gryffindor to cheer everyone up.”  
Harry nodded in understanding.  
“I think it’s been rather odd for them without you and Ron on the team, or in the common room for that matter,” Luna closed her eyes as the rain started to tap against the windows, “The younger years have looked up to you eighth years for so long now, especially the sixth and seventh years, that having you away from them in so many aspects has been difficult.”  
Harry remembered sitting down with Neville and Ginny over the summer as they explained what Hogwarts had been like whilst himself, Ron and Hermione had been hunting Horcruxes. He could understand why many of the younger students would now feel somewhat lost with the absence of the older students after hearing how the now eighth years and many now seventh years had stood up to the Carrows, taking punishments in the place of the younger students and offering support and guidance to those in need. Now, eighth years had their own common room, couldn’t play on the quidditch teams and with so many having not returned to Hogwarts, the absence was keenly felt.  
Harry didn’t notice he was shaking until Luna placed her hand over his. She leant her head on his shoulder and Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards the girl who had not only done so much for Ginny but had visited him at Grimmauld place countless times over the summer, bearing some new form of herbal tea or, on one occasion, a pie made with dirigible plums that Harry had been reluctant to accept, knowing how much Luna’s father valued the fruits. Luna had insisted that it was her father’s way of showing his gratitude to him for everything he had done and Harry had almost cried. Luna had become as much of a sister to him as Ginny was and he couldn’t imagine life without her.  
Harry heard the door swing open behind him but didn’t turn around to see who it was for fear of disrupting Luna’s head on his shoulder.  
After a few minutes of silence, Luna lifted her head from Harry’s shoulder and turned to address him.  
“So,” she started, “Would you still like me to teach you how I braided Ginny’s hair this morning?”  
Harry and Luna spent the next few hours in the common room, Luna teaching Harry various forms of braiding and Harry was surprised to find that something so simple could be so useful in focussing his mind. The tremors in his hands slowed and then stopped completely and he didn’t feel the need to turn and see who had entered every time he heard the door. It gave his hands something to do and, unlike cleaning, it didn’t bring back any memories of his time at the Dursley’s. By lunchtime, Harry had learnt how to French braid, Dutch braid and fishtail plait and he and Luna left for the great hall with Luna’s hair in two long braids, interwoven with silver ribbon. Harry could have sworn he saw a tall figure sat at the table in the corner of the common room as they were leaving but dismissed the thought, the common room had been empty, there was no way anybody could’ve been there.  
When the pair entered the hall, Luna was met with many complements on her hair and a few envious looks. When asked who had done it for her, she didn’t hesitate to reply that Harry had which sent a few confused stares his way.  
They sat at the Gryffindor table across from Hermione and Ron as Ginny slid onto the bench beside Luna, cheeks red and hair windswept, Ron and a few of the other Gryffindors were in a similar state having been playing quidditch for the past few hours.  
“Ooh! Let me see your hair!” Ginny exclaimed when she saw Luna twirling one of the end of her braid.  
Never one to do anything by halves, Luna stood and twirled around, showing off her hairstyle.  
“Pretty!” Padma Patil was leaning across the table to get a better look, “Do you think you could do mine like that Luna?” She asked.  
“You’ll have to ask Harry,” she replied, “He did it, he’s rather a lot better than me. I can never seem to get them even.”  
“Would you Harry?” She asked, directing her stare towards Harry, “I have a date later and don’t have any idea what I’m going to do with my hair!”  
“Erm…okay?” Harry replied.  
Almost immediately, Harry had several other girls asking him if he would do their hair as well, all citing various reasons for which they needed their hair done. Harry agreed of course, although he did wonder if any of the girls were just using this as an opportunity to spend time with him as they had been trying to so far this year. Though, with his potions essay almost finished and the rest of his homework done already, he needed something to keep his mind focussed and his anxiety at bay.  
That’s how Harry found himself sat cross legged on the sofa in the eighth year common room, a cushion on the floor below him and a queue of about ten girls with different requests of braids for Harry to attempt. As he had always done, Harry decided he would have to learn as he went along, attempting various styles he had never tried before on the spot with only tips and descriptions from the girls to help him along. Surprisingly, Harry found himself happy with the results of his experiments and if the smiles and hugs he received afterwards were anything to go by, his ‘customers’ were also pleased.  
It was almost four in the afternoon when the last person sat in front of him, luckily, requesting a simple French braid. Harry turned to check the time on the clock behind him and was surprised to find Draco Malfoy staring, as if in a trance, at Harry. Their eyes met briefly and Draco quickly turned his head back to the parchment in front of him, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. Harry felt his own cheeks warming and mentally shook himself before he turned back to the person in front of him. By the time Harry had finished, Draco had already packed up his things and left the common room, leaving Harry with a strange sense of disappointment that he couldn’t quite place.  
~~~  
The next day was the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff quidditch match and Harry woke early after another fitful night’s sleep to find Ginny and a small group of girls and a couple of boys waiting for him in the common room.  
“Morning Harry,” Ginny said, earning herself a slightly confused look and a friendly nod from him, “So, the team and I were wondering, well, we’ve been having trouble keeping our hair out of our faces when we fly you see and, well, none of us are very good at braiding you see…”  
“Ah,” Harry said, understanding wiping away the confusion from his face, “Okay,” he sighed, “Sit down.”  
Ginny beamed at him and gave him a quick hug before going to sit at the foot of the sofa along with the other quidditch players. Harry began tightly braiding and soon found that the anxious thrum that had been with him since he’d woken up died down slightly as he worked.  
After a short while, Harry heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see a tired looking Draco Malfoy rubbing his eyes with a yawn. He froze when he saw Harry staring at him and Harry. Draco’s hair, in its mussed state, softened Draco’s features making him look younger and softer and his clothes hung off him. A foreign feeling of affection for the boy in front of him ran through Harry and he gave Draco a small, nervous smile. Draco nodded and moved to the opposite side of the room, patting his hair down and curling up on an armchair with a book he had been carrying. Harry turned and continued braiding.  
Gryffindor won the match which meant, according to Ginny, that Harry now had to braid hair for every match for the rest of the year as he must be a lucky charm. Harry couldn’t complain, not only did it allow him to have an hour or so of grounded calm but it also gave him the chance to spend time with some of the younger students and help the quidditch team in one of the ways he could.

The school week passed similarly to any other, the only difference being that Harry now had a few requests daily from people wanting their hair braided for class or other occasions. Mostly it was eighth years as they were the ones who saw Harry every morning, however as rumour spread, more and more students began approaching Harry at breakfast and lunch with requests. Thankfully, Luna and Ginny noticed when he was getting overwhelmed and were there to politely turn people away when he had too much on his plate.  
He was learning more and more every day about different braids and techniques he could use for various hair types. He had even found some books in the library to help him and it was silly really but Harry almost felt like he had a purpose, like instead of just drifting around going to class and doing his homework as a distraction he was actually doing something worthwhile. Some days he thought he was getting a bit carried away but he enjoyed doing it, getting to spend time with people he hadn’t had time to talk to for a while on a one to one level felt a lot better than talking to big groups and still gave him the chance to interact with people instead of hiding himself away. There was no pressure, especially with the help of his friends to warn him when he was giving himself too much to do and turn people away occasionally.  
However, Harry was still having trouble sleeping. It was almost if his anxiety built up in the background during the course of the day and then was released to wreak havoc in his unconscious brain during the night. He found himself sat in the common room in the middle of the night frequently, staring into the fire and imagining his Godfather’s face staring back at him. He was also worried about Draco, who he barely ever saw in the common room at night. He found himself searching for the other boy at mealtimes but it was rare that he saw him.  
He had dreams about the Fiendfyre in the room of requirement, heard Draco screaming as he clung to Harry. He had dreams about Sectumsempra, the pain in Draco’s face, red stains blossoming on a white shirt, blood mingling with the water on the floor. He had dreams about that night on the astronomy tower. He woke from each, his voice hoarse and a need to see Draco, to make sure for himself that the other boy was okay. It took him a long time to calm down again after dreams like that.  
On Friday night, Harry awoke from a nightmare where he found himself running through a forest, the trees seemingly closing in around him and the ground becoming rougher with every step. He didn’t know what he was running from but it seemed to be getting closer and Harry woke with a start with the sense that whatever it was had been right on his heels. His breathing was erratic and he his surroundings were dark and blurry. He grabbed his glasses and quickly made his way to the common room where, luckily, the fire was still glowing. He stared into the grate, taking deep breaths and squeezing his hands together as he tried to ground himself.  
A creak of the floorboards behind him had Harry whipping his head around and grabbing for his wand before he realised it was still in the dorm. Draco Malfoy was stood behind him, having also spotted Harry. Harry released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and smiled nervously at Draco. The taller boy was dressed in a thick jumper and what appeared to be muggle sweatpants but was still visibly shivering and Harry caught his furtive glances at the fire. Harry silently gestured towards the other side of the sofa and Draco seemed to make up his mind, shuffling his way over to the sofa Harry sat on and carefully sitting, pulling his legs up next to him.  
“Nightmare?” Draco’s voice was almost a whisper as he addressed Harry, still staring into the fire.  
“Yeah, you?”  
“Yeah.”  
Draco made a snuffling sort of noise and Harry turned to see silent tears falling from his eyes, making them look glassy in the warm light of the fire. Without thinking too much, Harry shuffled closer to the other boy and wrapped an arm around him as Draco’s forehead fell to his shoulder. It was awkward at first but they both needed it and when Draco yawned, Harry manoeuvred them so that he sat, his legs curled to the side of him with Draco’s head on his lap still facing the fire. Harry’s fingers went to Draco’s hair, lightly carding through the soft strands, and Draco’s shivering began to slow. The boy yawned again and it wasn’t long before his breathing evened out. Harry had the sudden urge to place a kiss on Draco’s forehead but instead began to braid Draco’s hair into two loose French plaits. Harry felt his own muscles begin to relax and let his head rest on the large cushion on his other side. Harry slowly drifted off to sleep to the sound of Draco’s soft breathing and the patter of rain on the windows.  
When Harry woke up in the morning, Draco was gone.  
~~~  
The day passed slowly for Harry, he had a lot of essays and assignments to complete but all he could think about was Draco. He thought about everything the other boy had lost; his father to Azkaban, his mother to France, even his home had been repossessed by the Ministry. After Harry had spoken at Draco and Narcissa’s trials in the summer, any feelings of anger he had harboured towards the younger Malfoy had vanished. Draco had looked broken. There was no fight in his eyes anymore. In fact, without Harry to fight for him, Harry thought he might’ve accepted an Azkaban sentencing without a fight. But with no anger clouding his feelings anymore, Harry could now see Draco for who he really was. Draco, the boy who had grown his hair long and soft, was always carrying a book and still held himself with the same elegance he always had but now, the self-centred pride that had come hand in hand with the elegance had been replaced with a subdued modesty and introspection. Draco had always been pretty, but without the slicked back hair and tailored suits that made him look more like Lucius, Harry could now admit that Draco was gorgeous.  
Over summer and the first month of school, Harry had felt his feelings for Draco beginning to change. Harry knew Draco had seen the error of his ways and those of his father before the war even broke out. He had seen it in the fear in Draco’s face that night in the astronomy tower and in the reflection in the mirror of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom the day when Harry had made what he considered to be one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Before they even returned to school Draco had sent letters to all those he felt he had wronged, even Ron who had grudgingly accepted the apology after Hermione told them she had already forgiven Draco for his part in the war. Harry admired the boy for his determination to make things right and now that he was out of the influence of Lucius and the other Death Eaters, Harry’s feelings towards the other boy were becoming more affectionate every day.  
Harry sighed, deciding to give up on his transfiguration work for now as he was getting nowhere with it. Hermione and Ron were out on a Hogsmeade date today, as were Ginny and Luna so Harry decided to go for a walk around the grounds. The cold weather and overcast skies meant he wasn’t likely to bump into many people anyway and he needed space to clear his head.  
As Harry approached the lake, a seated figure caught his attention and as he got closer his suspicions were confirmed. Draco Malfoy was sat on a large rock by the side of the lake, a book in his hands that he was seemingly engrossed in. So as not to startle him Harry cleared his throat, causing Draco to look up from his book.  
“Oh,” Draco’s eyes widened when he saw Harry, “Potter, I didn’t see you standing there, my apologies. Was there anything you needed or…?”  
“Oh no, no…erm sorry,” Harry looked down at his feet, “I was just wondering if you wanted to walk with me?”  
Draco looked at Harry then down at his book, seeming to consider Harry’s offer. He then slid off the rock, landing gracefully and putting the book back in his bag.  
“Why not.”  
Draco fell into step next to Harry as they continued to walk around the lake.  
“Erm, Potter?”  
Harry turned to Draco, raising his eyebrows.  
“I just wanted to apologise for last night, you see I haven’t been sleeping well at all recently and I didn’t mean to pass out on you but-”  
“Draco, you don’t need to apologise.”  
Draco looked relieved but still slightly nervous.  
“Really, Draco, it’s okay. That was the best sleep I’ve had in a while to be honest with you.”  
“Oh…well then,” Draco glanced out across the lake, “I’d still like to apologise though, it must have been rather uncomfortable for you.”  
Harry snorted, startling Draco whose gaze had returned to the lake.  
“Draco, honestly, it’s fine.”  
“Okay then, if you say so Potter.”  
Harry bumped Draco’s arm with his shoulder and he thought he saw Draco smirk a little. They walked in comfortable silence for a little while, both of them staring out at the lake.  
“So, where are Weasley and Granger today Potter?” Harry supposed last names was an improvement on ‘Weasel’.  
“Hogsmeade date,” Harry responded, “Ginny and Luna too.”  
“Oh.” Draco shivered and pulled the sleeves of his jumper over his hands.  
“Come on,” Harry said, “Let’s go inside.”  
Harry led Draco to the kitchens and made two cups of hot tea, offering one to Draco on their way out.  
“Thank you.” Draco smiled at him and Harry swore he could feel his heart flutter.  
The pair walked back to the common room chatting easily about classes and assignments. When they entered, they were surprised to find the room empty.  
“Hey Potter?”  
“Harry.” Harry corrected and Draco rolled his eyes.  
“Fine, Harry,” Draco smiled and looked down at his feet, “So…this morning…I…oh for Goodness sakes, what was that in my hair this morning?”  
“I’m sorry, it’s just something I do, I’m sorry if you didn’t like-”  
“No, Pot-Harry, I liked it. I was wondering if maybe you could do it again?” Draco’s gaze returned to his feet.  
Harry laughed.  
“Of course, you’ll have to sit on the floor though, if you haven’t already noticed I’m quite a bit shorter than you.”  
Draco stood up on his toes and looked down at Harry, as if checking his height against Harry’s, and smirked before going to sit down on a cushion at the foot of the sofa. Harry rolled his eyes but smiled nevertheless and went to sit on the sofa behind Draco.  
Harry began to separate Draco’s hair into two sections and started plaiting high up on the right side of Draco’s parting. Harry was trying to be as gentle as possible, making the braids loose and wavy wanting to keep Draco’s hair looking soft to counter his angular features. Harry could’ve sworn Draco made a contented ‘mmm’ noise when Harry ran his fingers through the loose hair on the other side of Draco’s head after he’d finished the first braid but he decided to dismiss it as his imagination.  
When he was finished, Harry walked with Draco to the bathroom so Draco could inspect his hair. Draco gave Harry a nod of approval and thanked him but Harry didn’t miss Draco’s pleased smile in the mirror when he thought Harry wasn’t looking.  
The pair went back to the sofa and stared into the fire.  
“What was your nightmare about?” Harry turned to look at Draco, “Last night I mean.”  
“The room of requirement.” Draco’s voice was almost a whisper as he stared into the flames.  
“I have nightmares about that too.” Harry answered quietly, wondering if Draco was looking into the fireplace and seeing something different too.  
“Thank you,” Draco’s voice was soft, “I never said it.”  
“You don’t need to thank me,” Harry replied, “I wouldn’t have left you behind.”  
Draco shuffled to Harry’s side of the sofa and leant his head on Harry’s shoulder.  
“Still,” Draco’s voice was almost inaudible, “You didn’t have too.”  
“I wanted to, Draco.”  
Draco lifted his head and turned to face Harry and Harry realised how close their faces were. This close, Harry could see how long Draco’s eyelashes were. Harry held his breath, his heart thudding in his chest. The noise of muffled voices coming through the common room startled the pair and Draco shot up from the sofa.  
“Erm, thanks Potter, I’ll see you soon.” Draco strode across the common room, passing Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna on his way out.  
“Was that Draco Malfoy…In plaits?” Ron’s brow furrowed and Ginny and Hermione laughed.  
Harry groaned and put his head in his hands.  
~~~  
Harry didn’t see Draco for the rest of the day, not for his lack of trying. Draco didn’t turn up for dinner but that wasn’t unusual for him and so Harry ate and talked to everyone about Hogsmeade, casting glances at the door every few minutes in hope of seeing the blond. If only his friend’s hadn’t interrupted, Harry thought. He shook his head, he didn’t want to give himself false hope, he didn’t even know if Draco liked him.  
That night, Harry stared up at the curtains over his bed trying to take his mind of Draco but to no avail. It wasn’t like these feelings for the other boy were new. Since school had started in September, Harry had felt a need to get closer to Draco. The butterflies he felt in his stomach when he saw Draco had been a frequent occurrence for a few weeks now. So why was he so restless? It was almost as if he had been ignoring his feelings or maybe it was just that he’d been too exhausted and anxious to fully comprehend them. But today had brought those feelings to the forefront of his mind, along with the fear that Harry had imagined the look Draco had given him earlier and was giving himself false hope. Harry covered his face with his hands and sighed then ran his hands through his hair. He pushed all thoughts of Draco to the back of his mind and soon felt himself drifting off to sleep.  
“Cruc-”  
“Sectumsempra!”  
Harry watched as Draco crumpled to the soaked floor, blood stains blossoming on his white shirt. Time seemed to stop as Harry stared at the boy on the floor. Harry stumbled to Draco’s side.  
“No, no, no, no.” Harry grabbed Draco’s hand, “Please Draco, don’t leave me.”  
Harry could taste salt and realised he was crying.  
“Help! Please help!” Harry’s voice sounded broken. Nobody was coming! Where was everyone? Harry leant down and kissed Draco’s forehead.  
“Please,” he whispered “Please Draco, I need you.”  
Harry awoke with a start to the darkness of the dorm room and suddenly felt suffocated. He grabbed his glasses and stumbled from the dorm, his eyes watery and his hands shaking as he tried to jam the glasses onto his face. Suddenly, arms were around him and Harry felt himself being guided to the sofa.  
“Shh, Harry, you’re okay. It wasn’t real.” Draco’s voice was soft and soothing, “It’s okay. I’m here. Can you look at me Harry?”  
Harry looked up to stare into steely grey eyes, Draco’s blond hair like a halo around his head as it was illuminated by the glow of the fire.  
“It’s okay Harry, you’re safe, you’re with me, you’re safe.”  
Harry nodded, his tears slowing, and yawned. Draco moved them so that Harry led between Draco’s legs, his head cushioned on Draco’s chest. Harry fell asleep to the sound of Draco’s voice and the crackling of the fire.  
~~~  
Sunlight streaming through the tall common room windows woke Harry the next morning and it took him a moment to figure out where he was. That was, until he became aware of the arms encircling his torso and the fact that his head was moving up and down to the rhythm of someone’s breathing.  
He turned his head slowly, not wanting to disturb the other boy lest he up and run like the last time they had awoken in this position. Draco’s face was peaceful in sleep, his hair soft and messy and his clothes disorderly. Harry had never seen someone more beautiful. Draco began to stir, opening his eyes and squinting in the brightening sunlight. Suddenly he froze, seeing Harry awake, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but quickly closed again. He looked nervous and uncomfortable and Harry thought he caught a moment of regret in his eyes.  
“Morning,” Harry said, in a cautious tone, lifting his head from Draco’s chest, “I…I…ugh…” Harry started, unsure of what to say.  
Draco looked far from relaxed still and Harry’s heart broke a little. Maybe he had been wrong, maybe Draco didn’t want him the way he wanted Draco, maybe Harry had made it all up in his head. Maybe this was just Draco’s way of making it up to Harry after the last night they had spent together. Harry slowly started to sit up, running a hand through his hair nervously.  
“I’d better…I’ll just go,” Harry looked down at his hands, then turned to face Draco’s wide eyed stare, “I’m sorry,” he said, “About last night I mean. I know it was probably uncomfortable for you and it won’t happen again, I promise. I…sorry, I guess.”  
Harry swung his feet onto the floor and quickly stood, wanting to get away from Draco before his face revealed too much. His heart was racing and he could feel a lump starting to form in his throat, he was stupid, so, so stupid for letting this happen, for putting Draco in a position he so clearly didn’t want to be in. Suddenly a hand grabbed his wrist and he turned to see Draco staring up at him, his gaze still wide and nervous, as if he was unsure of what he was doing.  
“Erm…er…” Draco stammered, “I…oh what the hell.”  
Abruptly, Draco gave Harry’s arm a swift pull and Harry collapsed back onto the sofa, his eyes still locked with Draco’s. Draco gulped.  
“Stay,” Draco whispered, almost too quietly for Harry to hear, “Please.”  
Harry stared at Draco, trying to take in what he had just heard, Draco wanted him to stay? Harry involuntarily glanced at Draco’s lips and he didn’t miss when Draco did the same. They were in a stalemate, both wanting the same thing but too scared to initiate it.  
“Can I…” Harry took a deep breath, trying to slow his erratic heartbeat “Can I kiss you?”  
In one swift movement, Draco’s mouth was on his, his hand on the back of Harry’s neck pulling him closer. Harry’s arm went around Draco’s back and the kiss deepened, as if they were slowly coming together, fitting the puzzle pieces into place one by one. The kiss was like coming home and all of Harry’s anxiety dissolved, leaving what Harry could only identify as love thrumming through his body. They melted into one another and Harry’s bones felt like liquid, his blood ran hot in his veins and every point of contact he had with Draco felt like it was on fire. It was perfect, mouths moving in sync with one another and careful touches, Harry’s hand running through Draco’s hair and Draco moving to cup Harry’s face.  
A noise from behind the sofa startled them and they quickly broke apart, turning to see Luna entering the common room.  
“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Luna tilted her head to the side, a knowing look in her eyes and a warm smile fixed on her face, “I do apologise, I was looking for my silver ribbon, I thought I’d left it up here but it appears not. Anyway, good morning Harry, Draco. I do hope you slept well. I wish I could stay but I still have to find that ribbon so I’ll see you at breakfast.” Luna smiled at the two boys and, in no hurry at all, walked across the common room and out of the door.  
Harry turned back to Draco and stared into the other boy’s eyes, seeing clearly the love he was feeling mirrored in the silvery pools.  
“So,” Harry said, “Where were we?”  
~~~  
That morning, Draco and Harry entered the great hall together, Harry dragging Draco along by the hand and Draco’s hair in plaits.


End file.
